


Love's Not a Competition (But I'm Winning)

by fid_gin, unfolded73



Series: The Loved 'verse [13]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:26:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fid_gin/pseuds/fid_gin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had become a sort of contest over the many months to see who could outlast whom...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love's Not a Competition (But I'm Winning)

**Author's Note:**

> Original post date: March 18, 2009
> 
> I put a Non-Con warning to be on the safe side, but it's just a wee bit dubious, if anything. As you've probably figured out, these fics were all written WAY out of order, and this collaboration was actually inspired by a line in one yet to come: _Just Another Doctor_. Standard disclaimers apply: graphic sex, slash and meybe even a wee bit of schmoopiness at the end. Title comes from the song of the same name by the Kaiser Chiefs.

His room was a degree of darkness which only came from a special request and perhaps some sweet talking toward the TARDIS. The Time Lord's thoughts and senses had just sharpened enough to alert him that something was off before hands curled in his suit jacket lapels and he was yanked forward into that blackness. Lips smashed roughly against his, male lips identical to his own except the face was badly in need of a shave. He kissed back as well as he could under the onslaught, hearing his bedroom door slam shut behind him – whether kicked shut by the other Doctor or kindly closed by the TARDIS to afford them some privacy, he wasn't sure. 

“Is Rose in here, too?” he asked when the other man finally let up for a moment to breathe. For some reason he felt it necessary to whisper in the oppressive and silent dark. 

“No,” he heard the other Doctor say amidst scrabbling noises of fingers on fabric, which he guessed was the other man shucking his own blue jacket. “She sent me in here.” 

“Why?” His keen senses gave him a reasonably accurate idea of where the other Doctor was, but it was still a surprise when he found himself attacked again and pushed backward against the recently closed door. 

“Because you've been acting like a bastard all day and she told me the two of us need to work it out.” 

“And this...is your idea of 'working it out', is it?” the Doctor stammered between kisses, his own hands furiously roaming over the other man's torso, trying to free him from his shirt. The other Doctor shoved his hips forward against the Doctor's, their erections nudging against each other through the fabric of their trousers at the same moment he bit down into the flesh of the Doctor's neck, making him cry out wordlessly in pain and pleasure.

“If by 'working it out' you mean making you come so hard you forget how to act like such a tosser for awhile, then yes, it is.” He heard the other Doctor's voice sinking in front of him as hands worked at the clasp and zip of his trousers and then his mouth, all wetness and human-heat, swallowing him impossibly deep until he felt the muscles of his throat contract around him as he was forced to withdraw and then suck him more shallowly, almost teasingly. The warmth which repeatedly engulfed the tip of his cock was followed each time by the soft pressure of the other man's tongue lapping the length of his shaft and flicking the tip, and it occurred to the Doctor, not for the first time, that if he'd have known how good this particular body of his was at giving head, he might and gone back and visited former versions of himself much more often. Given himself something to look forward...or rather, backward, to. 

He'd been in a mood all day, feeling tetchy and competitive towards his other self, feeling superior and slightly predatory; this arrangement of the two of them and Rose aboard the TARDIS did not bother him, quite the contrary, but he still occasionally found himself struggling with his own identity against that of his double. The recent development of having briefly established a psychic link between himself, his half-human counterpart and Rose only complicated the matter, leaving him feeling exposed. Time Lords did not travel well together, it was why he'd almost consistently chosen the companionship of humans or other life forms over that of his own people. And when the other Time Lord in question was _himself_ , well...sometimes even the TARDIS seemed too small for the both of them. 

Oddly, though, his visceral reaction to these feelings was not one of anger. He didn't want to eject the other Doctor from the TARDIS. The Doctor could only blame prolonged exposure to unusual amounts of sex between himself and Rose, and then himself, Rose and his duplicate, but when he found himself wrestling with these feelings of annoyance and competitiveness, to put it rudely: it made him want to fuck the other man senseless.

This was his plan. However, his plan was rapidly deteriorating as he lost his focus on punishing the other Doctor for existing with rough sex, and his world shrank until there was only the feel of the other man's mouth devouring him, the hands grasping at his hips, the hungry, encouraging moans coming from the Doctor on his knees before him which he felt as much as heard. “I think,” he moaned, thrusting his hips forward, “that you like it when I'm acting like a...tosser, as you put it.” His babbling was failing him. “I think it... _fuck_ , gets you hot...and you were, yes, thinking about it before I...came in here, mmmmmm...” 

The other Doctor's hand slid around behind him, one finger slipping between the cheeks of his arse then working inside of him in time to his sucking, and the Doctor yelped as he instantly came in the other man's mouth for what felt like an eternity. When he finished he realized the lights were up again, and the other Doctor stood, looking quite smug and wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. 

“I win,” he said, giving a cheeky grin.

“You what?” the Doctor asked, still catching his breath. 

“I win. I made you come first.” 

“You're keeping track?” 

“'Course not. I'm just saying, if I _were_ , that I'd be winning.” 

The Doctor glared as he fumbled the zip and fasteners of his trousers up. “That's ridiculous.” He sniffed. “It's not even true. Sixty percent of the times you and I have engaged in sexual activity you have reached orgasm first. So, obviously, _I'm_ winning. This was...an aberration. You caught me off guard.” 

The other Doctor was still smiling. “Even if I hadn't, I still would've won. I'm just too good.” 

The Doctor stammered incredulously for a moment, then turned in a huff and walked toward the door. “If you're so _good_ , then why don't you see how fast you can make _yourself_ come?” He slammed the door behind him, and the other Doctor stood expectantly until he suddenly stormed back in. “Hold on, this is _my_ room!” 

***

The Doctor in brown had known he was in trouble the moment they'd left the TARDIS. The last time he'd been to this part of Stercorarius, the main drag had been high class; just the sort of place where Rose liked to window shop as they walked slowly arm in arm down the street. Granted, that had been a hundred years ago in Stercorarius' history, so he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that things were a bit different. And by a bit different, he meant it was totally and completely the opposite in every way. Where there had been dress boutiques and chocolatiers and jewellery stores, now there were casinos and strip clubs and sex stores. The night was lit up by gaudy neon signs and the street was prowled by prostitutes. The presence of a few policemen here and there indicated that things were relatively safe, even if local law enforcement was unconcerned about the sex trade.

Still, he'd wanted to return to the TARDIS, and had been vetoed by his companions. The Doctor in blue led the way, eventually going into a dank club with heavily tattooed bouncer at the door and a punk band on the stage inside. Although he didn't want to admit it because he was still sulking about his instructions not being followed, the Doctor thought it was a bit brilliant, really. Like seeing the Clash at the Top Rank in Sheffield, now that he thought about it. They made their way through the dense crowd to the bar.

They attracted attention - it was the biggest problem with walking around with what appeared to be his twin - he couldn't blend as well as he used to. People looked at twins, and when they were, let's face it, incredibly handsome men, people looked even longer. The most annoying thing about it was how much the other Doctor seemed to enjoy it.

Rose elbowed the Time Lord in the ribs. "You okay?" She had to shout to be heard over the din.

He opened his mouth to say that he was fine, and what came out instead was, "Why do you always take _his_ side?" Well, that didn't sound petulant at all, he thought sarcastically.

Rose leaned over and spoke directly into his ear, her breath hot against him. "I _don't_ always take his side. Besides, you're secretly thinking how cool this place is, aren't you?"

"No," he responded, but one side of his mouth quirked up against his will. 

Rose knew him too well. "That's what I thought," she said smugly. She wrapped her arms around him, underneath his long coat, and gave him a squeeze. "So stop pretending to be angry and enjoy yourself."

The Doctor leaned down and kissed her, but all the while he was thinking that he actually wasn't _pretending_ to be angry; he was angry, or at the very least, annoyed. Annoyed that the other Doctor seemed hell bent on throwing himself out into the world, doing whatever struck his fancy, when he was so ... fragile. Annoyed that his duplicate often seemed to take great pleasure in contradicting him just for the sake of contradicting him. Annoyed that ... he looked over at the man in question. Annoyed that he was currently flirting shamelessly with another bloke at the bar.

He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he didn't need to. The other Doctor was leaning on the bar, arse jutting out, eyebrow cocked, lazy smirk on his face. 

"What does he think he's doing?" he asked Rose. 

Rose looked over at the Doctor in blue. "Looks like he's flirting, Doctor." She took a sip of her drink.

"And that doesn't bother you?" He was shouting so that she could hear him, he thought, not because he was angry.

She laughed. "It's harmless."

As he watched, his double leaned in close to the stranger, listening to something he was saying, and then threw his head back in a full-throated cackle. The other Doctor drained the rest of his pint and gestured toward the loo before heading off in that direction. The Doctor deliberated for a minute, then stalked after him. It was hot in the club, and the press of bodies around him made him feel that much more frustrated.

By the time he'd fought his way through the crowd and entered the men's toilet, his duplicate was washing his hands while he examined his reflection in the mirror, turning his face this way and that. The Doctor grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and hauled him into the farthest stall, slamming the door behind him and locking it.

If this had been any of a number of clubs that were part of the British or American punk scene in the 1970s, he never would have set foot in the loo. Fortunately, this was another planet, another time, and everything was self-cleaning, including the wall that he slammed his duplicate's chest against.

"What's your problem?" the other Doctor said through gritted teeth, his cheek against the tile.

_What_ is _my problem?_ The Doctor wondered, even as he was pressing his erection against the other man's backside and reaching around to fumble with the fastenings of his duplicate's trousers. He felt a possessiveness with his double that he wasn't used to feeling, even with Rose. Perhaps it was that they were still, in some sense, the same man, so the thought that the other Doctor could do whatever he wanted, over the Doctor's own wishes, rankled. Whatever the reason, the Doctor was ashamed to admit that he might be feeling the need to mark his territory. And to establish a little bit of dominance again. "I don't have a problem, unless it's that I'm not fucking you yet." The other Doctor responded by grinding back against him. 

It was a simple matter to get what he wanted; this wasn't exactly new territory for them, excepting the fact that they were in a public toilet. The other Doctor's trousers down, his own open and lowered just far enough, the Doctor spit into his hand and stroked himself. When he entered the other man, he was not gentle. 

"Fuck!" his duplicate hissed, obviously in the throes of pleasure and pain combined. "Easy!"

The Doctor gave him a couple of seconds to adjust, and then he gripped the other man's hips and pulled him sharply back against him with every quick thrust. His long coat would obscure the view of anyone who looked over the stall door and saw them, although there would be no question what they were doing. "Do you like this?" the Doctor asked, his jaw clenched tight.

"You know ... I do," he gasped. The other man reached down to stroke his own cock, but the Doctor let go of one hipbone to bat his hand away. He reached around and closed his fingers tightly around his duplicate's erection, stroking him in time with his pumping hips.

"Why?"

The other Doctor moaned wordlessly, bumping his arse back against the Doctor's hips and then thrusting forward into his fist. He was silent so long, the Doctor thought he wasn't going to answer, and then he finally spoke. "Like it when you take me. When you fuck me ... hard."

The door to the men's room opened and several blokes walked in, talking in loud voices. The Doctor bit back a whimper, trying to stay quiet, even as he maintained his rhythm. His own climax beginning to approach already, the Doctor gritted his teeth and made his thrusts slightly shallower, focusing on the action of his hand. The other left his duplicate's hip and closed over one of the hands he was using to brace himself against the wall. He put his lips right next to the other Doctor's ear. "When you come, don't scream."

As if on command, he felt the other man tense and then he was coming, pulsing in the Doctor's hand, breathing harshly through his nose and trying not to cry out. When he was finished, the Doctor gripped his hips and abandoned himself to his own pleasure, his orgasm cresting over him very soon after.

As they adjusted their clothes, the other Doctor remarked, "I should flirt with strangers more often."

"You could do that," the Doctor said, "but I'd like to point out that _I_ won. You came first." He twisted the lock on the stall door and went over to the sinks in the now-empty room to wash his hands.

"Smug bastard," his duplicate muttered behind him.

With a wink and a click of his tongue in acknowledgement, the Doctor left the room.

***

The part-human Doctor awoke to the other man dropping onto the bed, glasses on and a book in hand. He wore only loose pyjama bottoms. "Where's Rose?" he asked the other Doctor.

The Time Lord glanced at him over the tops of his specs. "Curled up in front of the telly with a heating pad, watching _Bridget Jones' Diary_."

"Ah, right on schedule then," the Doctor said, referring to Rose's menstrual cycle.

"Yep."

With a sigh, the part-human Doctor crawled out of bed and walked naked into the en-suite. He used the toilet and brushed his teeth, then got back into bed. If Rose was any indication, they'd be staying in the Vortex today anyway; no reason not to laze about. He closed his eyes.

"Going back to sleep?"

The part-human Doctor smirked. "Why?"

"No reason." Cracking an eye open, he saw that the other Doctor was back to reading his book.

"If you want to fool around, why don't you just say so?"

The Doctor heard the smack of a book hitting the floor and the click of glasses dropped on the nightstand, and then the rustle of bed linens. "Because I'm too wrapped up in my own self-image?" he said with a sigh. "At least, that's what Rose says."

Rolling toward his double, the Doctor pulled him into a kiss, noticing only once they were pressed close together that the Time Lord had taken off his pyjamas before getting under the covers. They writhed together for a long time, kissing, biting, enjoying the friction of their bodies. The other Doctor rolled him onto his back, sucking on his neck and thrusting against him so that their cocks slid against each other, making the Doctor moan low in his throat, his single heart racing. "D'you want to fuck?" he asked the Time Lord, running his hands down to the other man's arse and thrusting up with his own hips.

"Nah," he answered, crawling down the Doctor's body. The other Doctor's cool, wet mouth trailed down his chest and abdomen and enveloped his cock. With a grunt, the Doctor threaded his fingers into the other man's hair. His double sucked hard, one hand fondling his balls at the same time.

"You're trying to win, aren't you?" the Doctor bit out.

The other man released him, licking up the length of his cock a few times. "Not like I have to try that hard. You're so easy." The other Doctor took his cock deep into his throat again, then pulled off. "That's not the only reason I do this, you know."

"I know." Their feelings for each other were something they almost never vocalized, preferring the safety of competitiveness over the vulnerability of tenderness.

The other man again stopped what he was doing, replacing his mouth with his hand. "I am going to win though," he smirked. Long strokes, from the base to the head and back - the perfect rhythm, as always. 

"Shut it," the Doctor groaned and the other man squeezed him.

"I can feel how close you are, can feel it in my mind and in how hard your cock is." Another squeeze.

"You just ... can't keep ... yourhandsoffme," the Doctor said around his harsh breathing. His double chuckled, unperturbed by that suggestion. A twist of the other Doctor's wrist on every upstroke, palm sliding harshly over the head of his cock, and he was teetering on the edge of orgasm. Grasping the other Doctor's shoulders, he pulled him up and kissed him hard, hips moving mindlessly beneath him until he came with a cry against the other man's lips. 

When he relaxed, the Time Lord rolled off of him onto his back. "I won."

The Doctor couldn't help but laugh. "Yes you did." He turned onto his side, looking at the sticky mess on the other Doctor's abdomen. Dragging his hand through it, the Doctor grasped his double's cock, using it to lubricate his firm strokes. "Now let's see what you've won, hmm?" 

***

The Doctors flopped onto Rose's bed in a tangle of long limbs and clutching hands, and it was only a few minutes later, at the sound of a throat being cleared from the foot of the mattress, that they realized that Rose had not fallen with them.

She stood, staring them down with her hands on her hips. “I'm feeling a bit neglected,” she said, and the Doctors looked at each other then separated. 

“I thought you _liked_ watching...you know, this,” the Doctor in brown said, pouting slightly. 

Rose rolled her eyes. “Well yeah, when it's something you do because you're _enjoying_ it and not as some sort of sibling rivalry.” 

Both Doctors sputtered, sharing a look of shock and disgust. “We're...we're not siblings!” the Doctor in blue finally stammered out. She waved her hand dismissively. 

“Whatever, I know you're not siblings but you know what I mean. I'm not stupid – I know you two have some sort of mad testosterone-driven contest going on. Although, do you even _have_ testosterone?” She directed this last to the Time Lord. 

“Similar chemical structure, although more complex of course..."

“Oh shut it, scrawny,” the Doctor in blue mumbled. The other Doctor gawked at him. 

“You _are_ aware that we're identical, yes?” 

"I wear it better."

“Enough!” Rose held her fingers to her temples, closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked tired. “Honestly, what is going on? Doctor?” She addressed them both with the one word, and they both had the decency to look slightly ashamed. 

The Doctor in blue finally spoke. “It's...you have to understand that this...” He gestured between himself and the other Doctor. “Nothing like this has ever happened before. We have no frame of reference for how to...cope.” Rose crawled onto the bed between them; the Doctor in brown instinctively spooned up behind her, nuzzling at her neck and running his hand down over the curve of her hip as the half-human Doctor found her lips with his and kissed her slowly. 

“So,” she said, when she could speak again, “your way of _coping_ with the highly foreign concept of being attracted to yourself is to grudge-fuck each other to death?”

“It sounds so sexy when you put it like that,” the Doctor behind her murmured against her neck as his hand slipped under her t-shirt. She sat up and pulled the garment over her head, and the Doctor still in blue, now fumbling to remove his jacket, kissed his way down her chest and sucked at one nipple, using just enough teeth to make her whimper. The Doctor behind her reached across her belly to unfasten her jeans while the other Doctor released her breast and worked her jeans down over her hips along with her knickers, crawling down her body to at last peel them off of her feet and toss them off the bed. Rising up on his knees, he began to undress, laying down and rolling over onto his back to remove his trainers, trousers and pants. Turning over to the other, still-dressed Doctor, Rose unfastened his trousers and pushed them down, scooting down and over him on hands and knees and taking him into her mouth as the half-human Doctor moved behind her. When he entered her, she moaned around the Doctor's cock and he gasped. 

“Do that again,” he instructed, and she did, humming her pleasure long and low as she sucked him, assisted by the Doctor behind her who fucked her in slow, deep thrusts as he gripped her hips and pulled her back onto him. Releasing the Doctor from her mouth for a moment, she worked him with her hand as she looked back over her shoulder at the other Doctor. 

“Talk to me,” she whispered, before turning back and again lowering her mouth onto the Doctor under her. 

“You feel...so good, Rose,” the half-human Doctor said through gritted teeth. “So wet...I love that you get so wet for me. No matter...where I am, what I'm doing...I'm always thinking about this. About...being inside of you.” He reached one hand around and began to finger her clitoris, and she pushed back against him in encouragement. 

Again, she released the Doctor's cock from her mouth, licking up the shaft before she looked up at him. “Now you.” The Doctor opened his eyes, looking down at his double and Rose, coupled over him, Rose's head bobbing slowly as she swallowed him again and again. 

“I love you, so much.” It was only recently that he'd been able to speak the words, and honestly he could have been speaking to either of them. “Love watching you...the two of you, together. We look so beautiful.” 

Rose smiled up at him. “Why do you think I like watching the two of you together so much? It doesn't get much more beautiful than that.” She returned her mouth to its task, and the Doctor hissed, fisting his hand in her hair, his hips beginning to buck up to meet her. The Doctor behind was getting close as well, and as Rose began to come she released the Doctor from her mouth to cry out as she continued stroking him with her hand. He followed her moments later, coming onto her breasts in spurts as the half-human Doctor thrust into her twice more and finished with an almost agonized groan. Withdrawing from Rose, he curled up behind her as she budged up and laid her head on her first Doctor's chest. 

“Right, you two,” she said, sounding sleepy. “Now kiss and make up.” She rolled over onto her back to allow the Time Lord to sit up. The two Doctors bent over her, their lips meeting, and the half-human Doctor leaned forward after they separated, bringing his mouth to his double's ear, whispering so that Rose would not hear: 

“I won.”

***

The Doctor left them dozing. When he returned an hour or so later the room was dark, but this time nothing his eyes couldn't adjust to given a minute or two. He stood still letting exactly this happen, blinking and listening to the sounds of sleep from the direction of the bed: soft breathing and a light, nearly imperceptible snoring that could only be from his part-human doppelganger. When the man was well and truly knackered, he snored a bit, and the Doctor had teased him about it mercilessly at first. 

Smiling bitterly at this memory of yet another instance of his initially intolerable behaviour toward the other man, the Doctor stepped into the bedroom and, navigating his way carefully through the darkness, found the bed with the toe of his trainer. He laid down against what turned out to be Rose's back, and she squeaked a bit in her sleep and arched back into him. Burying his face into her hair, smelling the odours of sex and dreaming hiding there, the Doctor reached forward and found the bare arm of his other self wrapped around Rose's waist, let his fingers follow it up until he eventually reached neck and then jaw. He softly traced the other Doctor's face, planting a kiss on the top of Rose's head, then, using the other man's shoulder as leverage, pulled himself as close as he could in an attempt to hold them both at the same time. 

The Doctor remained this way for some time. Thinking of a department store basement. Of a biological metacrisis. Of an accidental landing in the wrong Norway, and how bloody grateful he was for each one of these things. He lay with his ears tuned to the faint beat of each of the fragile human hearts of his companions. 

“I win,” he whispered into the dark room, smiling.


End file.
